Give Me a Night and I'll Hold You 'Til Morning
by slythatheart
Summary: "You're so beautiful," Lydia whispered with a tiny smile. It should have sounded strange in context but it didn't, at least not to Allison. Lydia had called her beautiful before, but in a friendly way; never with lingering eyes and such a soft tone. After "Lunar Eclipse", Lydia and Allison spend a night showing each they care and reaffirming their friendship. Physically.


**Notes: **Spoilers for season 3A. Unbeta'd and to be honest I'm not happy with how this turned out but I've been working on it since the end of 3A and I swore I'd post it before 3B starts, so here it is. This is only my second attempt at femslash so I'm sorry if it's terrible.

* * *

**Give Me a Night and I'll Hold You 'Til Morning**

"I kissed Stiles."

Allison nearly dropped her pen at Lydia's words. They were sprawled across Lydia's bed, catching up on homework of all things. Apparently, schoolwork didn't get put on hold for students who were busy trying to save the lives of their parents. Not that any of the faculty _knew_ of course, at least not anyone that counted, because Ms. Blake _absolutely_ didn't count and was unlikely to come back, at any rate.

"When?"

She had a million questions, actually, but that one came spilling out before the others, as if a timeline mattered. It had to have been recent, otherwise Lydia would have said something before, and if she didn't, well, Stiles probably would have told Scott. Or maybe he had. Allison's relationship with Scott wasn't exactly where it used to be; she needed to adjust to the idea that he wouldn't always be telling her everything anymore.

"Don't get mad, okay? But it was at school. The day before yesterday."

The question of why she would get mad was on her lips, but Allison's words died as she realized what Lydia meant. She had said _while they were at school_, meaning while Allison and Isaac were busy searching for the Darach; while Scott was with Deucalion.

There had to be more to it than that, Allison knew. Lydia had never been interested in Stiles and it had been clear that Stiles was finally moving past his crush on Lydia. Even if those hadn't been perfectly valid reasons, the timing was certainly questionable enough that she had to ask.

"Why?"

"I don't know," Lydia admitted. She pulled herself into a sitting position, legs folded to the side. She rested her weight on one hand as the other fiddled with the page in front of her. Lydia would never appear so vulnerable in public, and Allison felt warmth flood through her at the reminder of how much Lydia trusted her. She looked hesitant, so Allison dropped her hand to Lydia's ankle, squeezing gently to offer silent encouragement. "A few reasons, I think," she continued. "Because for once he was looking at me like a person, instead of a goddess. Because he was so preoccupied with his father that he stopped focusing on me like I was perfection in human form. Because everything was spiraling out of control and seeing him having a panic attack made me realize that he needed me – needed _someone_ – and I know what that's like. Take your pick."

Although Lydia had offered several answers, Allison knew that it was the last one that meant the most. And she understood. Lydia had had a lot of problems over the past year; they all had. Allison wasn't surprised that Lydia was empathetic to Stiles' panic after what she'd been through. She didn't show it to many people, but Lydia cared about her friends more than anything.

"Did it help?" she asked softly, letting her thumb run a soothing circle as Lydia gave her a tiny smile.

"I—yes. Despite all logic and reason." Lydia sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. It was slightly mussed, like she had been doing that subconsciously for a while before Allison arrived. Maybe she had. "It was stupid, and probably even dangerous, but I didn't know what else I could do for him."

It didn't seem like Lydia had any more to say on the subject, although Allison had at least a dozen more questions floating in her head. But they could wait. Lydia didn't need to feel harassed; she needed to feel understood.

Allison put her pen in her book to mark her page, then closed it and pushed it away. She twisted where she lay until she was no longer on her stomach, instead she was on her side with one hand supporting her head, the other still resting on Lydia's ankle. "I almost kissed Isaac. I mean…I didn't try to, but I did think about it. He'd just broken my hand cuffs and he was so close, looking down at me and I just really, really wanted to."

Lydia made a small noise of interest then dropped slightly, so that she was leaning on her elbow instead of her hand. It meant that she was closer to Allison, like their conversation had suddenly gotten personal, despite the fact that it had been that way all along. Though she wasn't quite lying down, she was nearly mimicking Allison's position in its opposite, like the yin to Allison's yang.

Maybe it was the other way around; Allison certainly didn't feel like the sunlight to Lydia's shadow. If either of them was darkness, Allison felt sadly sure it was her.

"What about Scott?" Lydia asked.

"I love Scott." Allison wished she could give more of an answer than that, but it was all she had.

"And Isaac?"

"I…" she hesitated. "I don't know what I feel for Isaac."

It was the truth. She knew she felt something, but she hadn't been in a hurry to analyze it. Maybe she was a little afraid of what it was.

"But you want to find out." Lydia was all-knowing, once again. Allison hated that she was right, even though she hadn't realized it was true until Lydia said so.

The conversation felt wrong, like there was something Allison was missing. Even though their words were honest, she suspected they were having different conversations; like Lydia had an entire secondary thought process that Allison hadn't quite grasped. Or maybe Allison was only following Lydia's background thoughts and it was her main point that was passing over Allison's head.

It was a long time before either of them spoke again. They didn't do much of anything except breathe together, lost in thought until Allison realized that Lydia had moved gradually, so slowly that Allison didn't notice how much her position had changed until they were lying side by side and Lydia's fingers were tangled in her own.

When the quiet was eventually broken, it was by Lydia once again.

"You died, Allison. You _actually_ died. And not for seconds like we were ready for – for _hours_. I had to watch it happen and trust _someone else_ to be enough to bring you back." Lydia's voice was quiet and cracked, like she'd been speaking for hours and Allison just hadn't been listening. It made her wonder how much Lydia had been replaying in her head, how much she'd dwelled and re-imagined to make her sound so emotional when they'd only been working on American History and talking about kissing boys they probably shouldn't.

And that was the point, wasn't it? That was what Allison was missing – was why Lydia brought up Stiles, and Scott and Isaac – because Lydia was still scared of everything they had almost lost and she wanted to focus on what they still had.

Allison dragged her eyes from the light fixture on Lydia's ceiling to focus on her friend. She turned her head, momentarily distracted by the way her hair was spilled over Lydia's strawberry blonde in dark waves. There was so much contrast between them yet there were similarities where it counted – in their strength and determination. It was beautiful.

When Lydia turned to her, not just with her head, but her entire body, Allison could see that her eyes were wet and red rimmed. "I thought you were gone."

"I'm sorry," Allison whispered, because she really, truly was. Lydia was a constant in her life, the one who stood by her side despite the darkness she'd fallen into after her mother died.

"I know."

"I wanted it to be you," she admitted. Isaac was…Isaac. But whatever was happening between them was new and not nearly as strong yet as the relationship she'd built with Lydia. Allison understood Deaton's decision; knew that neither Deaton nor Isaac could have pulled Stiles back in the same way that Lydia could, but she'd still wished it could have been different.

"_I know._" Lydia's words were stronger, firmer, but she looked damaged. If Allison didn't know Lydia so well, didn't know she was as strong as she was, Allison would have thought she looked broken. But Lydia was a survivor and so was Allison. They both just needed to remember that.

"I'm still alive, though," Allison said, with all the strength and reassurance she could muster. "I came back."

"This time."

That was the core of the problem, but it wasn't something that they could fix. With the lives they led, there would always be the possibility that next time they wouldn't make it through. Like Erica. Like Boyd. Like Allison's mother and countless others who wouldn't see tomorrow.

She didn't know how to respond, how to convince Lydia that everything would be okay – because what if it wasn't? Lydia was right, she may have survived this time, but she couldn't guarantee the same for next time. All she could guarantee was that there _would _be a next time. That was the price that Deaton had warned them of, the price of what she, Scott and Stiles had done.

"Allison, you are my _best friend_. I love you."

"I love you, too." Allison moved onto her side to face Lydia fully, using her free hand to grip Lydia's wrist when tangled fingers weren't enough. Lydia's other hand was there too, slipping into place until their hands were locked in a pile between them. Lydia's hair was wild, yet still somehow perfect. A stray lock was draped along her neck, under her chin, and Allison wanted to shift it away; wanted to move it until it was spread behind Lydia's head the way she _knew_ Lydia would prefer. She thought about it, but couldn't bring herself to let go of the hands twisted with hers for long enough to actually do so.

"You're so beautiful," Lydia whispered with a tiny smile. It should have sounded strange in context but it didn't, at least not to Allison. Lydia had called her beautiful before, but in a friendly way; never with lingering eyes and such a soft tone.

"_You_ are," Allison answered, feeling her cheeks heat up.

"I know."

Allison smothered a giggle as Lydia grinned smugly at her, but it didn't last. Lydia's smile melted out of her eyes, slowly turning strained until it fell away altogether and she was left looking unbearably sad.

"I know you don't want me to keep thinking about it," Lydia said, low pitched, "but Allison, you didn't have to look down at the unresponsive body of your best friend and wonder if you had just helped kill her." Her voice got rougher, and perhaps a little angry. "Sixteen hours. You were dead for _sixteen hours_, right in front of me."

"I'm sorry, Lydia. I know—"

"No. No, you _don't _know. You might never have woken up and you know I love you, but I never, ever _showed you_. Stiles and Scott, they both…I'd have been devastated but at least with them I've—" she broke off, shaking her head. "It's just…seeing you all like that..."

Lydia's voice was still steady, though her breathing sounded erratic and Allison could tell she was barely holding herself together.

"Whenever I looked at Stiles," Lydia continued, "all I could think was, '_I'm so glad I kissed him today_'. And I know kissing Scott that time was stupid, but I don't regret it, not anymore, because even though it caused a mess and it was for all the wrong reasons, at least it was _something_. When I looked at you, underwater and just…_lifeless _all I could think was that you mean more to me than either of them and I never got to _show_ you."

"I…I never thought you wanted..."

"Neither did I. Before. But now all I can think about is how I should kiss you and-and _touch you,_ while we still have the chance." Lydia's words made Allison's heart skip. Something inside her understood completely. "I love you more than any friend I've ever had and it just seems _so stupid_ that there isn't such a thing as platonic love-making because you _almost died_. I almost lost you."

Allison smiled sadly. "When I first saw you with those marks on your neck, when Ms. Blake almost strangled you, it felt wrong not to touch you," she confessed, her cheeks feeling warm. "I wanted to…to touch you all over, to make sure there weren't other marks I couldn't see. But I—our friendship is too important to me."

"I don't want us to be more than we are, okay?" Lydia said, insistently. "I can't even imagine it, because you have this space in my life as my best friend and it's _exactly_ where you belong. But…I can't stop thinking about this." She hesitated and Allison was thrown; Lydia was rarely hesitant. "Just…give me one night," Lydia said after a moment. "Because tomorrow – next week, next month, _whenever_ – you could die. Or I could. One of us could be gone. Or you could get back with Scott, or start dating Isaac. Or both, because I _know_ that you've noticed that they look at each other the same way they look at you. I'm not asking for what they want. I just really need to hold you and touch you and know that I didn't lose my best friend today. Sometimes I feel like you're all I really have left."

Lydia sounded anxious, desperate in a way that Allison struggled to connect with her best friend. But then, they'd been through an awful lot and Allison could definitely understand.

"I uh, I've never—with another girl," she said, uncertainly. "Never really thought about it."

"Neither have I, but you're not just a girl. You're you. And we're both fast learners, so I'm not worried about..." Lydia stopped and gave a half smile. "I have no problem with giving directions and I doubt you do, either." Lydia had brushed away her desperation to fall back into her usual take charge attitude. Allison knew it was partly for show and partly to bolster her; for that she was grateful.

Allison could feel a soft smile forming and although she wasn't laughing aloud, she knew Lydia could tell she was amused. It was a little crazy, and probably a terrible idea, but they both knew they were going to go ahead with it.

"Just one night?" Allison checked. Those had been Lydia's words, but she needed to be sure.

"Just one."

She wasn't sure how it had happened, but they were closer than they had been; must have slowly inched closer together, because Allison could feel the warmth of Lydia's breath on her chin, could feel the softness of Lydia's breast where it was pressed against the back of her fingers.

Sliding forward just enough to meet her halfway, Allison dropped a chaste and tentative kiss to Lydia's mouth before pulling back slightly. She pressed her lips together, feeling Lydia's gloss on her mouth – just enough to feel sticky – then darted her tongue out. It tasted like berries.

"Wait," she said when Lydia shifted closer for another kiss. "What about Aiden?" She had actually forgotten about him until that moment, she realized. That probably made her a terrible person.

"What about him?"

"Well, aren't you two together? Don't you think he'll be mad?"

"Allison, considering how often he and his brother make the hell-beast with two backs, I don't think he can complain."

She couldn't help herself; Allison choked at what Lydia had insinuated. "Lydia!" she gasped, trying to stifle her giggles. "Oh my god, that is _not_ what they do—"

"Ugh,_ details_. But I suppose you're right. I shouldn't have jokingly implied anything sexual when they only gruesomely melt into each other to form one freakish being. Two _literally _become one. Quite frankly, Allison, that's much creepier. And let's face it, that level of codependency _cannot_ be healthy. But my point stands. He won't mind."

Allison was still giggling when Lydia pressed one perfectly manicured hand to her shoulder, pushing until Allison was on her back. Lydia's hands were roaming and her touches, though still innocent, felt more intimate to Allison than ever before. Her fingers trailed over Allison's hair, her cheeks, her shoulders and arms. It was several minutes before Lydia ventured further, catching Allison in a deep, hot kiss as she dragged her hand all the way down Allison's side and slipped her fingers under the edge of Allison's shirt to tickle at the skin of her waist.

Kissing Lydia was nothing like she'd expected, not that she'd even thought about it prior to the last several minutes. Although Allison wasn't sure exactly _what_ her mind had come up with, she knew she felt surprised and that the gentle but hungry way Lydia explored her mouth wasn't something she could have anticipated.

It was better.

_Definitely_ better, she decided when Lydia's tongue swept over and around her own.

Lydia's lips were softer and plumper than any Allison had kissed before, and there was something addictive about drawing the warm flesh of Lydia's bottom lip between her teeth and sucking. Better still, Lydia liked it too, if the way she gasped against Allison's mouth was any indication.

When Lydia's fingers began to move again, tugging on Allison's shirt until the pale skin of her belly was exposed, Allison shifted and the kiss was broken. She sat up, guided by Lydia's other hand, then lifted her arms while Lydia quickly pulled Allison's shirt off. She unbuttoned Allison's jeans for good measure, dipping her fingers into the space and rubbing them gently against Allison's panties.

Allison wasn't surprised that Lydia was didn't pause or seek permission beyond the decision they'd already made. She was driven and her take-charge attitude was refreshing. It had been heartwarming that Scott always asked when he undressed her, concerned about her comfort, but Allison knew she was a capable woman and she appreciated that Lydia trusted her to speak up if she wasn't enjoying herself.

She toed her shoes off and tried to do the same with her socks, but Lydia's hands were already there, making short work of them then rubbing into the soles of her feet, pressing deep and skillfully, pulling a low moan from Allison's throat.

"Interesting," Lydia said, voice low and teasing. "Are foot massages a weakness for you?"

"N-not specifically," she answered, squirming when Lydia's thumb dug into the arch of her foot with just the right amount of pressure.

Lydia hummed, letting her fingers move slowly up to Allison's ankle then her calf, pressing and rubbing through the denim. Allison let her eyes fall shut, enjoying the sensation, until Lydia's fingers reached a point on her upper thigh that made her swear and roll her hips.

"Massages in general, then?" Lydia asked curiously, and Allison's eyes shot open when the words were accompanied by warm breath across her ear. Lydia's face was very close to hers but Allison hadn't even felt her move – she'd been too busy melting into the touches on her legs. "Especially your thighs."

Allison nodded, leaning up to lick and nibble at Lydia's mouth. Seconds later Lydia was moving down the bed, encouraging Allison to lift her hips. She did, and Lydia took advantage of the movement to peel Allison's jeans from her.

When they were gone, somewhere over the edge of the bed and out of Allison's sight, Lydia was kneeling over Allison's thighs, surveying her handiwork. She had one hand tracing patterns over Allison's hip and upper thigh, leaving a trail of sensitivity that made Allison shiver.

"Doesn't seem fair," Allison said, very conscious of the fact that she was only covered by the thin cotton of her bra and panties. "You're still dressed."

Lydia smirked at her, stepping off the bed gracefully. Moments later her dress was slipping down her body, landing in what Allison imagined was a puddle of fabric on the carpet. Lydia was left in pretty navy blue lace that made Allison regret dressing for comfort that day rather than appearance. Lydia's nipples were hard and visible through her bra, and she couldn't drag her eyes away until Lydia crawled back onto the bed, nestled between her thighs.

"Shift up higher," Lydia told her and she obeyed. She moved until she was partially leaning on the headboard, her head and shoulders against it while a pillow supported her upper back. It gave Lydia room to lie on her stomach without kneeling or hanging off the end of the bed, which must have been Lydia's aim because she settled into position, kissing and licking at Allison's stomach wetly as her hands palmed at Allison's thighs, hips and ass.

Lydia's mouth was hot on Allison's skin, generating sparks of want that Allison hadn't realized she could feel for another woman. Allison was getting more and more aroused with every touch of Lydia's hands, lips, tongue, teeth – could feel herself growing wetter and more impatient as Lydia took her time.

She didn't make a single move toward Allison's bra, which Allison found strange until she remembered the raunchier conversations they'd had, including Allison's admission to having almost no sensitivity there.

Of course Lydia remembered. And of course she wouldn't waste time there that she could attribute to other areas; areas that would provoke a better reaction.

Instead, she was finding the areas where Allison _was_ sensitive; kneading and squeezing and pressing until Allison thought she might explode. Lydia spent what felt like forever just teasing her, working her until she knew all of Allison's weaknesses; the tender spot behind her knee, the way she'd twitch when Lydia palmed her cheeks or dragged her thumb along the line where her thigh met her groin, the soft noises Allison couldn't hold in when Lydia focused on her navel by dipping her tongue or tugging the skin with her teeth. And Allison's favorite, her thighs; hands running along the long muscles, squeezing; and Lydia's mouth, kissing, sucking, and best of all, biting at soft skin of her inner thighs.

By the time Lydia hooked her fingers under the waistband of Allison's panties, Allison was already a boneless mess. She was so wet; she could feel the slickness on her inner thighs and the dampness on her panties where they dragged along her skin as they were being pulled off. Once they were gone Lydia moved back into position, spreading Allison's legs even further until she felt on display, Lydia staring down at her in a way that Allison could only interpret as hungry.

Allison's blood felt hot; her skin was clammy from a thin sheen of sweat, and all she could focus on was the pressure low in her belly, begging for release. When Lydia finally sunk to her elbows, hooking Allison's thighs over her shoulders to drag her tongue along Allison's folds, Allison moaned long and loud. She was breathing again – hadn't even realized she'd stopped – but it was rough and unsteady. She twisted her fingers in the sheets and writhed, tilting her hips, desperately trying to get more of that feeling.

Lydia seemed to know just what to do, and the tiny part of Allison's brain that could still function wondered if she was doing what she liked and hoping for the best, or if she'd studied the best way to eat a woman out so she could teach anyone heading downstairs on her. Both, probably.

And then she wasn't thinking at all, because Lydia had gotten more assertive. Her tongue was moving insistently; circling around Allison's clit then dipping lower, pressing into her opening with a curl then sliding back up, the flat of her tongue laving right over Allison until the tip was circling her clit again.

Allison was struggling to breathe and her mouth was dry, but she didn't care because her body was thrumming with need.

Lydia's actions were coaxing her higher and higher. She'd pull back just enough to be teasing but never enough that Allison lost any momentum; Allison just kept building and building towards her release until she thought she'd go mad with it. She hadn't known she could climb so high without falling over the edge, but there she was, muscles tight and coiled, feeling impossibly hotter and hotter, until she started begging, whining.

Finally, Lydia's eyes met Allison's. She was still licking at Allison with fervor, but when Allison stared down, chest heaving and heart in her throat, Lydia winked and slipped two fingers inside her, curling them just right and pressing. Jolts of need were shooting through Allison and Lydia kept moving; working her fingers inside Allison and her mouth and tongue on her clit until Allison's orgasm crashed into her hard and she cried out as she came. She couldn't help herself; her hips arched against Lydia's face, the extra pressure making her tremble as the aftershocks washed over her and her walls clenched rhythmically.

Apparently conscious of Allison's need to recover, Lydia didn't move except to place small, open mouthed kisses along Allison's hipbone for several moments. Once Allison could finally feel herself stop tightening around Lydia's fingers, Lydia moved, withdrawing them slowly. She dropped one final kiss to Allison's pubic bone that tickled enough to make her giggle, before Lydia moved a little higher to relax, breasts soft and heavy on Allison's groin, her head pillowed just below Allison's chest. Her hair wasn't quite a mess, but it wasn't as perfect as normal, either; it spilled across Allison's bra and slid over her ribcage.

By the time Allison had finally come down from the afterglow – her breathing and pulse back to normal and the dampness of sweat on her skin nearly dry – one of Lydia's hands had found Allison's; fingers entangled and thumb rubbing soothing circles on her palm while the other hand was scratching at Allison's hip, fingers lightly dragging back and forth.

It felt comfortable, relaxed. Allison thought she could have stayed like that for hours, except she could feel the lace of Lydia's bra against her skin and couldn't stop remembering how Lydia had looked earlier, how Allison had wanted to touch her.

Lydia seemed content, more than Allison would have been if she'd been in Lydia's position. She knew Lydia had to be turned on; she'd obviously enjoyed seeing Allison lose control, and Allison wanted to return the favor.

When it didn't look as though Lydia was going to move, Allison took matters into her own hands. She shifted a little, gripping Lydia's ribs with her thighs and rolling her hips until Lydia took the hint and moved with her.

Allison could have moved them both forcefully, she suspected, but Lydia didn't strike her as the type to be dominated.

Once Lydia was on her back, Allison kneeling over her, thighs framing Lydia's breasts enticingly, Allison grinned.

"Your turn," she murmured. She crawled down Lydia's body, pausing to push strawberry blond locks off Lydia's shoulders until they were no longer hiding any skin.

"This isn't about me," Lydia said with a teasing grin, hooking one ankle behind Allison's knee and dragging across the ticklish area with her toe.

"No," Allison agreed with a laugh, trying unsuccessfully to shake Lydia's foot away, "it's about _us_. Let's get this off." She ran one thumb along the strap of Lydia's bra, the other over her nipple.

Lydia's toe stilled and her expression went from teasing and playful to soft and pleased, shy in a way that Allison wouldn't have expected from her, as she leaned up to let Allison unhook her bra.

As she slid the straps over Lydia's shoulders and down her arms, Allison couldn't help but wonder if Lydia had ever been with someone who just wanted to make her feel good, who wanted to _give _as much as receive, the way Scott had; the way she was sure Isaac would. She suspected that most, if not all, of Lydia's past lovers just expected her to _take_, the way she usually did outside of the bedroom – to demand what she wanted from them. Lydia would have no problem with that, no problem making it clear if her needs weren't being met, Allison knew, but she shouldn't always have to.

She was going to make sure Lydia got what she needed without having to take it herself, Allison decided.

There was no rush, she figured, so she sat up, straddling Lydia's hips as she took some time to look her fill. Lydia was gorgeous, as always, hair fanned on the bed around her, skin milky and flawless. Her cheeks were reddened and her pupils were dilated; the only obvious signs of how affected she was. Allison let her fingers run aimlessly over Lydia's skin, smiling beatifically when she found a spot that made Lydia wriggle and slap her fingers away.

"Ticklish?" she teased.

Lydia raised an eyebrow in challenge. "You stimulated my primary and/or secondary somatosensory cortex. I had a natural reaction."

Allison couldn't help herself; she laughed. Lydia was scarily intelligent, but she treated her knowledge as though it was common and that never failed to amuse Allison. She'd never known anyone as brilliant as Lydia.

She leaned back in and slid her legs down the bed to press her hips flush with Lydia's. Allison braced herself with her elbows on either side of Lydia's head, careful not to lean on her hair, and caught Lydia's lips with her own.

The gloss that had been on Lydia's lips earlier was completely gone, and instead of sweet and sugary berries, Allison could taste herself. She loved it, loved the knowledge of how it had gotten there, and found herself sucking and licking at Lydia's mouth, trying to chase the flavor with her tongue.

Before she knew it she was kissing deeper, her hands in Lydia's hair, massaging her scalp while her thumbs pressed gently into the sensitive spot by her jaw. Lydia moaned into her mouth, hands snaking up Allison's arms to grip at her shoulders. Allison could feel Lydia's breasts under hers, rounder and fuller that her own. She could feel the stiff peaks of Lydia's nipples dragging against her own, tempting her, if she moved just so. The way Lydia arched when that happened, sudden and eager, gave Allison the confidence to untangle a hand from her hair and let it wander lower. The moment her fingers brushed a nipple, Lydia gasped, squeezing Allison's shoulders even tighter.

Lydia had mentioned once having sensitive nipples, but until that moment Allison had had _no idea_. Lydia was so much more responsive than Allison had anticipated. She pulled out of the kiss and back a few inches further for good measure, enough to really _see_, then rolled Lydia's nipple between her thumb and forefinger, squeezing gently.

The reaction was immediate; Lydia's teeth dug into her lip as she bit down on another moan. Allison grinned, pulling her hand away from Lydia's breast and using her thumb to free Lydia's bottom lip. She rubbed it gently then lowered her head and soothed the swollen flesh with her mouth and tongue.

When she pulled away she couldn't help feeling a little smug about the reactions she could elicit. It must have shown on her face, because Lydia rolled her eyes – fondly, Allison could tell. Allison grinned, burying her face in Lydia's neck.

Allison inhaled deeply and deliberately across Lydia's skin, from the spot behind her ear, down her neck and over the swell of her breast. Lydia smelled like peaches, and Allison recognized it as the body lotion she bought last time they went to the mall. It felt like forever ago. "I know I don't have the sense of smell that a werewolf does," she explained at Lydia's questioning smile, "but Scott used to do this to me, and it always felt—"

"Sexy?"

"Well, I was going to say intimate," Allison replied, "but yeah, sexy too." She nuzzled into the soft skin of Lydia's breast, biting gently at the underside as Lydia shifted beneath her. Allison let her fingers dance along Lydia's side, down then back up again to run across her other breast, circling the nipple. She caught the nearest one between her lips, tugging gently as she flicked the other lightly with her nail. She smiled when Lydia moaned, feeling a snaking of heat through her, in spite of her lingering satisfaction.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked in a whisper, shifting until she was lying between Lydia's spread legs, head resting between Lydia's breasts, with Lydia's thighs framing Allison's waist.

"Oh, you seem to be doing just fine on your own," Lydia breathed. When Allison cupped her palm around Lydia's breast to knead it gently, she could hear Lydia's pulse quicken.

"You're so sensitive." It was a simple comment, but it came out more teasing than Allison had meant it to. She lifted her head and began mouthing at the other breast, rolling the nipple carefully between her teeth and Lydia arched, sliding her fingers into Allison's hair.

Lydia clearly enjoyed what Allison was doing; even if she hadn't been so vocal the evidence was warm and slick against Allison's stomach through Lydia's panties. They were soaked. Allison wanted to make Lydia fall apart in the best way possible, wanted to make her shake and moan and beg. And she wanted to be right in that position when it happened, with her mouth and tongue on Lydia's dusky pink nipples, swollen and aching from the attention. But that alone wouldn't be enough to get Lydia off, she figured.

Allison pulled back for a moment, pressing a quick kiss in the valley between Lydia's breasts. "You uh…you said something about toys?" she asked, trying to keep the shyness from her voice.

Fingers scratched at the nape of Allison's neck, and she knew that Lydia had been surprised, though her expression didn't change.

"Bottom drawer," Lydia said breathlessly, nodding towards her bedside cabinet.

When Allison slid the drawer open, she found more than she expected. At home Allison only had one vibrator, six inches long with a little bunny stimulator for her clit. Lydia had something similar but sleeker, and a few other options as well; some Allison recognized and some she didn't. Allison chose something a little different than she was used to. It was small and expensive looking, completely covered in a thin layer of soft silicone with two small buttons on one side. The whole thing was a very pale pink and would look like a simple, modern computer mouse if Allison hadn't found it in a little stash of sex toys.

It sat perfectly in her palm, and was clearly made to curve to a woman's body, to press comfortably against her. It looked innocuous, incredibly subtle, but when Allison clicked a button experimentally, she was surprised by how quiet yet powerful it felt in her palm.

Obviously Lydia had gotten what she paid for.

She clicked the buttons for a few more seconds, getting a better feel for how it worked, before switching it back to its lowest setting, deciding it was best to start low and work higher. She had her fingers under the elastic of Lydia's panties, ready to take them off, before she thought better of it and nestled the vibrator in place under the lace. They should keep it more or less in position, she figured, while she could focus more of her attention elsewhere.

Lydia didn't make any noise straight away, though she did buck her hips the smallest fraction at first contact. It wasn't until Allison settled back between Lydia's thighs and pressed her stomach against Lydia, her weight pushing the toy down more firmly, that she reacted more obviously. It wasn't much, just a slight roll of her hips and a sharp exhale, but Allison could tell she was on the right track.

With a tiny smile, Allison went back to work on Lydia's breasts, cupping and kneading the soft mounds and licking, sucking and squeezing her hard, straining nipples until Lydia was panting and clutching at Allison's hair. She didn't ease off, perfectly content to spend as long as she could enjoying what she was doing, and enjoying what her actions were doing to Lydia. Whenever she thought Lydia wasn't expecting it Allison shifted a little, knowing she was also moving the little pink massager.

When Lydia was getting closer, her skin flushed and her breathing rapid, Allison decided it was time to push a little further. It had been quite some time; Allison didn't know how long, she only knew that Lydia's nipples were puffy and wet from the attention, and at some point she must have sucked a hickey into the soft skin next to Lydia's left areola. She hoped Lydia wouldn't get angry about that, but from the way she was gripping Allison's hair and muttering filthy curses that sounded like pleas, Allison didn't think she would.

Allison wiggled a little until she was comfortable and the vibrator was sitting exactly right against her belly. Then, she began to move. Her movements were small and deliberate as she licked at Lydia's nipples, but she could feel the vibrator moving with her, up and down barely an inch, pressure firmer then lighter as she adjusted her weight to give that effect.

It wasn't long before Lydia's thighs were quivering and her fingers were twitching against Allison's scalp; she was so close and Allison could tell that when Lydia's orgasm hit it would be intense. Allison wanted to feel it, somehow, so she moved one hand down to the soaked lace of Lydia's panties, snuck her fingers under the fabric and pushed it out of the way. She slid a finger easily into Lydia's slick opening as she mouthed and palmed at her breasts more aggressively. She fumbled for a moment; it wasn't easy but she managed to find the right button with her thumb and pressed it to increase the vibrator speed. She gave a few thrusts with her finger then just let it relax in the warm heat of Lydia's body while she used the heel of her palm to rock the vibrator firmly against Lydia's clit.

Lydia was gasping, or maybe moaning. Whatever the noises were, they were hot and needy; more desperate than Allison could have ever imagined coming from Lydia. When she came it was fast and hard; she didn't scream or cry out, she just twisted her fingers sharply into Allison's hair and came with a sob, tightening around Allison's finger and digging into the back of her thigh with curled toes.

When Allison released the nipple in her mouth to look up, Lydia looked _wrecked_. Her eyelashes were wet, her bottom lip was dark and swollen where she'd been gnawing at it, and she had strands of hair plastered to her forehead. She looked beautiful.

Allison removed her finger gently then pulled the massager away once Lydia started to squirm. She turned it off and left it on the bed to be cleaned later then carefully readjusted Lydia's panties until they were no longer bunched awkwardly. Allison settled beside Lydia on the bed and they moved around a little until they found a comfortable position, curled into one another, face to face, with Allison's arm tucked under Lydia's neck and Lydia's hand cupping Allison's hip. Their legs were twined and Allison could feel Lydia's big toe moving absently against her ankle.

They were silent for a long time, but it was relaxed, peaceful. Allison was surprised that she felt more at ease with Lydia than ever before; she didn't feel even a hint of awkwardness.

"What do you think will happen?" Lydia asked eventually, long after Allison's fingers had started combing through strawberry blonde locks. "With you, Scott and Isaac, I mean?"

"I have no idea. I know what I _want_ to happen, or at least, I think I do? But…it's complicated," Allison told her, trying not to focus on how confusing her feelings were, or the fact that at some point in the last twelve months she'd changed enough to think that a polyamorous relationship was exactly what she wanted. "What about you and Aiden?"

"Definitely _not _complicated." It seemed like a joke, but also dismissive. Allison wasn't sure what to make of that.

"And Stiles?" she asked. Not that she thought there was anything there, not really, but Lydia was her best friend and she would be silly to completely ignore the idea.

"I would destroy Stiles, after a while. I can't do that to him."

Allison didn't want to ask, but it came out anyway, almost without permission. "Because you're still in love with Jackson?"

Lydia was silent for a moment and Allison was perfectly willing to let it go, but then she answered, voice quiet and maybe a little nervous. "Yes."

It was what Allison had been expecting, but she still felt sad to have it confirmed. It was so unfair, Allison thought, for Lydia and Jackson to have finally come to terms with how much they meant to each other, only to end up on opposite sides of the world. Jackson wasn't exactly responsible for that, Allison reasoned, but she was upset with him anyway, because Lydia was the one that Allison saw suffering, despite the attempts she made to hide it.

"Is that why Aiden isn't complicated?" she asked. "Because it still sounds complicated to me."

Maybe Allison shouldn't have brought Aiden up again, considering Lydia's earlier response, but their whole afternoon together had been filled with honesty and openness and Allison needed to be sure Lydia wasn't going to get hurt.

"It's not complicated," Lydia said, voice suddenly firm, "because I shouldn't love Jackson anymore. And one day, I'll be able to stop."

"Love doesn't work like that."

"Maybe not, but I can try my best. For now, I like Aiden, and that's enough."

"Okay," Allison told her. It was probably a lie, probably wouldn't be okay in the long run, but Lydia was strong and she could make her own decisions. Allison let her fingers continue running through Lydia's hair as she checked the time. It was getting late. Her dad would be expecting her soon, but she would call him and get permission to stay. Lydia was her best friend and they'd been through a lot lately. He'd understand.

Besides, Lydia had said one night – as far as Allison was concerned, the night didn't have to be over until the sun rose the next morning.


End file.
